


NUMB

by emxsal



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Book 1, Character Death, Complete, Crime Fighting, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Double Agents, Drama, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Guns, Humiliation, Humor, Hurt Spencer Reid, Murder, Original Character(s), POV Third Person, Psychological Torture, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Snipers, Stripping, Switching, Torture, Undercover Missions, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emxsal/pseuds/emxsal
Summary: Her mission was to infiltrate the BAU, to get the team to trust her, and slowly break them a part. But she never took into account Doctor Spencer Reid. She knows her mission. She cannot fail. But what if succeeding sudden cost more than she bargained for? And is it worth anything if it destroys the only love she's ever known?
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. ONE

**P R O L O G U E**

* * *

_"How much longer?"_ A young Scout Wiley grumbled as her mother washed the dishes in the kitchen.

It was a quiet evening in Virginia and the sun was just starting to set, shining golden rays into the house. It was cold out but not unbearable, the wind played as a reminder that summer was soon ending and the start of fall rounded the corner.

Harper Wiley glanced at the clock, "Not yet, they've still got a few minutes before they can come out."

Scout pouted and continued to stare at the oven, face almost pressing against the glasses. The only thing stopping her was the burning hear from the appliance, if only she could reach in and grab them. Chocolate smells encapsulated the house, a fragrance that made her stomach growl in longing.

"Scout, what did I tell you?" Her mother scolded, turning off the water and crouching down to the little girl's level.

"To not ask again." The messy haired girl whispered, almost speaking in a spiteful tone. She huffed and sat down on the floor, back pressed again the cabinet and burning holes into the oven.

Harper continued to clean the dishes and glancing between the clock and her daughter on the floor. Time was going by slowly and her husband should've been home by now. The sound of the door knocking brought the mother out of her thoughts.

"Wait here." She said sternly and opened the front door.

Scout peered between the legs of her mother, curious as to who was at the door but not enough to move from her spot. After all, the cookies were more important.

A tall man with a dark shadow stood in front of her mother. He looked as if he had never smiled before according to the lines on his face. Scout could hear her mother gasp in fear before shaking down to the knees of the man. Her soft sobs brought Scout out of the kitchen and in the perspective of the man.

Scout pushed away his presence and leaned towards her mother, "Can we eat the cookies now?"

But no one responded.

_Instead, they were left to burn to a crisp._

* * *

_O N E_

**_THERE WAS NOTHING_** she hated more than the smell of coffee.

It wasn't the fact that she didn't like the taste of it, because she did. But the smell of pure, black coffee without any sugar or cream made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Maybe it was because she never understood how people could drink it straight from the pot without any sort of flavor or because it smelled like manure to her but she hated it more than anything.

And the fact that the FBI smelled like it every morning didn't help at all.

It filled every hallway and crevasse of the government building, making sure that even the walls sweated its dark color by nighttime.

Luckily, she made sure that the mailroom never smelled like it with cans of Febreeze to cover it up. She made sure to never drink the occasional cup of coffee that she had inside the room and to always have her spare toothbrush around to wash the aftertaste out.

Five spoonfuls of sugar and half a cup of milk was how she took it.

And it was good enough for her.

"Good morning, Wiley." She heard from behind as she typed away at her computer, logging in the mail count from yesterday that she forgot to do.

That's when she smelled it.

With a quick swift, she turned around and made contact with the large, open mug of coffee that was clearly made in the break room because it smelled the rest of the building.

"Gordon, what's the number one rule for my office?"

The man scoffed, "C'mon Scout, this isn't your office. This is the mailroom, so stop being so over dramatic and pass me the cart. I still haven't gotten the load today."

"Probably because you were getting that cup of dirt." Scout mumbled under her breath, standing up and pushing the large laundry-looking cart over to Gordon.

The push was forceful, causing him to almost drop the ceramic cup.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Hey! Don't you dare look at me like that; you're the one who pushed it."

"If you dropped that, you would've been so dead to me."

Gordon scoffed, "Aren't I already?"

"Don't push it."

* * *

The FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia first hired Scout Wiley when he father died of lung cancer back when she was a junior in college.

She took over his job after she failed to graduate because of the devastating loss. Somehow the people in the shades and dark suits let her into their world and thankfully, the mailroom was as far as she went with the murder cases that happened behind the four walls she was so secure in.

Scout grabbed the clipboard that was hooked on to the wall next to her. It had every department listed along with the names who worked inside of it.

She never met the people who these names belonged to and she'd rather keep it that way. Being a people person was something she never was.

Her eyes glanced at the clock; it was almost time to distribute the mails and Gordon still wasn't back with the shipment and they still haven't stored through the letters for each department.

Then the door swung open with the large cart filled to the brink and letters escaping to fall out. Gordon pushed it from behind with his usual pale face reddened from the physical labor. The sweater that he wore was now hanging from the side of the cart.

"What the holy hell? This is double than our usual round, why are they're so many?" Said Scout, tugging in a stand of her brown hair and standing up to help Gordon.

She pulled the other side of the cart and brought it into the room.

"It's almost Christmas time. Remember, this is the first time you're working through December. You'd be surprised how many people send Christmas cards to the agents who save their asses. Some get around 20 a week this month."

Scout sighed and wiped her sweaty hands against her jeans, "Well, shit. Maybe I should've taken the month off then. From the looks of it, you might have to make like 5 rounds back and forth to finish in time."

"Nu uh, no way missy," Gordon said with a stoic face. "You are working outside of your box for the rest of the time being. I'm not going to do half of your job for you."

Her jaw dropped, Scout walked around the cart and straight towards him. The room suddenly got warmer and she could feel the sweat on her neck start to form.

Scout didn't like to talk to people unless she had to, and most of the time in her life, she never had to. She was terribly shy when people forced her to interact with others. When it was on her own terms, it was different.

She swallowed hard, "You can't make me do that. You're not allowed to."

"Oh ho, watch out. In case you forgot, I am your superior. Which means that I can do as I please, and do you know what that means?" Gordon pushed one of the carts towards her, hitting Scout in the gut.

However, the glare that she was sending him wasn't enough to make him change his mind.

"Fine, you win." She huffed.

He smiled confidently, "I knew I would. Now, that cart goes to the BAU on the fourth floor, okay? You remember where that is, right?"

Scout grabbed the clipboard off the wall again and scanned over the names quickly before throwing it in the cart. The small baby hairs brushed into her eyes for a second before she tucked it behind her ear quickly.

"If I said no then would I still have to do it either way?" She joked.

Gordon gave her look that was as if he was giving her a warning and pointed to the door. That was the last straw and Scout knew it.

No more jokes and no more complaining.

With a quick nod of her head acknowledging her leave, she was off.

While the mailroom was on the ground floor, Scout scurried her way towards the elevator and crossed he fingers in hopes that no one would want to go on too.

She pressed the up button and waited impatiently, ready to push the cart into the elevator. When the doors opened and revealed very mature and adult looking people, her face turned beet red.

It was embarrassing to her that she had to pull the cart back to let the people pass through and it didn't help that they frowned at her.

' _They probably think that I'm crazy, or even a kid. Fuck, that was terrible.'_ She thought to herself. 

When she was able to get into the elevator, Scout glanced at her reflection against the clear metal wall. From the way she was dressed, it wasn't a big shocker that people thought she was a kid.

Jeans, t-shirts, dirty black converse, old flannels, and a beanie is really all that her wardrobe consisted of. Most people wore business clothes like pencil skirts and suits.

Scout stuck out and she knew it.

Once the elevator dinged, she pushed the cart with all her might and tried to get through the hallway without anyone noticing her.

The glass door with the imprint 'BAU' was an indicator that she knew that she had done her job well so far.

"Oh how the FBI love their acronyms." She mumbled under her breath.

Scout walked through the sea of desks as if she was walking to her death. The pounding in her chest was so loud and intense that she could feel it all over her body; in her head, mouth, and fingertips.

It was an extraordinary feeling, but one that she hated and still gave her adrenaline.

Before she could really try to make out what she was feeling, Scout quickly grabbed through the stacks of letters and placed them on the empty desks of the agents.

The clipboard was the only way she was able to make of the names of them and their corresponding desks and thanked he lucky stars that it wasn't as hard as she thought it was.

That is, until she felt a body bump into hers and something warm splash all over her clothes.

The smell of coffee washed over her, literally.

And the second she opened her brown eyes, she could see an empty mug in the hands of a very tall man. Panic rushed in her veins again and she held back her instinct to gag.

There was that smell again.

"I-I'm so sorry. I didn't ev-even see you there." A stuttering voice spoke with the kind of nervousness that she couldn't relate to.

Her eyes darted towards the man with a harsh glare before she turned back around to what she was doing.

No one was a quick to anger as Scout was and this man clearly was not getting the clue.

He stuttered another apology before grabbing a handful of napkins off of his desk, "Look, let me help you. I- I really am sorry. I was just reading my book as you're just so short that-"

"I am not short." That made her water boil over.

At the height of 5'1, Scout Wiley refused that one main fact about herself. She was in fact, short.

The plaque on the surface of the man's desk was in large bold letters:

**SPENCER REID**

Ignoring his constant dosing, she grabbed a stack of 6 letters and a package and threw it on his desk.

That is what finally made him shut up.

His eyes widened before starting to stutter one more time but she stopped him with a hand up.

"Just," She started to say before she sighed, "shut up."

Scout gave him one last hard glare and left with the now empty cart, heading towards the bathroom and as far away from the BAU as she could get.

* * *


	2. TWO

_T W O_

* * *

**_SPENCER REID WAS_** known to be a very intelligent man.

It was no lie that everyone knew in the BAU, almost as it was common knowledge. However outside of his department, this was not the case.

When he was not amongst his friends, he kept his head down. Spencer didn't want any attention at all and liked it that way. People didn't question his existence in the building and he didn't question others.

That is until that girl bumped into him. Or did he bump into her?

Spencer shook his head as he was driving into the parking lot of the FBI building. The sun hadn't even started to come out yet. It was an early morning, much to his dismay, since Hotch has called the team with an urgent text.

Once he parked the car, Spencer grabbed his large cup of coffee and his bag before walking inside. Everything was quiet which was rather comforting. It made it easier to think. Too many people created too many distractions and he was glad he was the only person around beside security.

With quick steps and large strides, he found himself standing in front of the elevator and waiting for the steel doors to open. It felt like a routine after working all these years at the BAU. And it was a nice feeling.

"Mark! Get your smelly coffee out of my office or I'll spray you in the face with Febreeze, I've done it before and I'll do it again. Now out!"

Spencer's brow furrowed together. The elevator made itself known with a loud ding but he ignored it in hopes of investigating the yelling from further down the hall. He had heard that voice and he had a hunch who it belonged to.

He soon peered into the mailroom and a very pungent smell of ocean filled his nose. The mailroom wasn't a large place and Spencer had only been there once to deliver an urgent package a long time ago. But when his eyes glanced at the two bodies inside, his assumptions on who's voice was screaming had been correct.

"Kid, this ain't your office and I'm tired of having to chug my coffee on the drive here. Look, I'm in charge so I think that I can make the rules around here." The man with his back turned away from the said.

The girl from yesterday was sitting on top of a desk with her legs criss-crossed wore a harsh glare on her face.

"Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?"

From what he recalled, she was: short, aggressive, and stood out like a sore thumb. And he could tell by the way she was dressed today that the clothes she worse yesterday was a normal attire.

Now he wasn't much for fashion but he at least knew how to dress for work. But this girl obviously didn't. Her sneakers were dirty and not even close to a correct shade of black. The brown hair on her head was tangled and hidden under a hat, almost as if she simply woke up.

"Scout, I really don't like your sarcasm." Mark mumbled before grabbing his coat and throwing it on a chair.

"Well I don't like your stupidity and yet here we are."

Spencer stifled his chuckle before walking back to the elevator and going up towards the correct floor. And for a reason that he didn't care to admit, he had a small smile on his lips and was no longer tired of his usual routine.

* * *

It was common knowledge that Scout was very childish.

She watched Saturday morning cartoons in matching pajamas with little hamburgers on them while eating a big bowl of Captain Crunch. When she brings lunch to work, she uses her favorite Crayola lunchbox with a PB and J sandwich (no crust, of course) and cut into squares.

So when Scout walked around during her break with her nose stuck in a book, many people turned head. Could it be, Scout Wiley is actually reading?

She actually was willingly reading a book.

It was shocking, that is until people noticed which book she was reading: _Harry Potter_. And with that fact known, people didn't question anymore.

Her brown eyes scanned the lunch room. Luckily, no one was there which meant she could eat in peace without having to make any small talk. And she could go back to reading her book without distractions. Scout pulled out her lunchbox from her and ate in silence.

"Do you know if this is a fresh pot?"

Across the room stood a bright blob of fuchsia with platinum blonde hair and stiletto heels. She was a sight for sore eyes in a building where everyone wore suits and ties.

Scout shrugged her shoulders, "Sorry, don't know."

The woman nodded before grabbing the filled pot and dumping it in the sink. Scout watched her carefully all while she was pretending to still be reading. She interested her but most of all, surprised her.

'How the hell have I never seen her before?' Scout thought.

"You can never been safe with the coffee here. Some people leave a full pot out for days and don't make more until its empty. It tastes like lighter fluid if you ask me." The woman scoffed.

"I'm not a big fan of coffee."

The woman turned, "Well good, kids these days are drinking way too much of it and frankly it scares me. Sooner or later, they're going to be more hopped up than the hippies were with meth."

Scout dropped her book on the table when the woman started to walk towards the table and lay a stack of files she hadn't noticed she was carrying.

"Just how old do you think I am?" She raised her brow.

The woman froze, "You're...part of the internship program. Right? The ones from the high school down the block?"

"No," Scout smiled. "I work in the mail room. Have been for about 5 years now."

With a squeak of embarrassment, her face turned as bright pink as the dress she wore. Scout chuckled under her breath, something she always did when anyone found out that she was older than she looked.

Her youthful face was something that made people wonder her age but she knew the way she dressed and acted didn't help. After all, how many late 20 year old still acted like they actually were in high school? Not many and practically none in the FBI.

"I'm so sorry, I just figured- and with the lunchbox-I never seen you before- you look so young-" The woman started to ramble.

Scout waved it off, "No need to worry, happens all the time."

"But how come I've never seen you before?"

"Eh, I guess I just blend in when I want to. Most people just think I'm visiting a parent or something half the time."

"Well now," The woman smiled, "You won't blend in anymore to me erh-"

"Oh uh, Scout. My name's Scout."

"Penelope Garcia."

"Well Penelope, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I think your coffee might be overdone." Scout looked over her shoulder and smelled the pungent bitter smell.

"Shit." Penelope mumbled under her breath before rushing to the counter.

Scout stiffed a laugh before gathering her things. She was in far too good of a mood to continue reading or eating lunch and figured it would be best to go back to work.

With a quick goodbye, she walked to the elevator.

It felt good to make a friend, especially someone who didn't look like she belonged either. And Scout was glad to have been able to do it without worrying about saying something wrong or sounding stupid.

'If only it was always as easy as that was.' She thought.

The buzzing from the back pocket of her jeans pulled her out of her thoughts. When she saw that a text from a blocked number was blinking back at her, her good mood disintegrated.

'No, not now.'

The screen unlocked.

**_CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE HOME. WE NEED TO TALK._ **

**_-X_ **

* * *


	3. THREE

_T H R E E_

* * *

**_HER EYES BURNED_** when she pulled into the driveway.

The entire drive home, Scout refused to blink. Or rather, she was so distracted that she forgot to. Her fingers trembled as she grabbed the key, pulling it out of the transmission and back in her pocket.

"I can't do this. I can't do this." She mutter under her breath.

It was only a matter of moments before she knew she would have to pick up her phone and make the call she was dreading all day. And if she didn't call? Her stomach flipped at the thought of it.

"Scout? What are you doing?"

She looked up and saw the familiar face of her mother by the door. Wheelchair and all. The sight of her made Scout feel even worse as she got out of the car and slammed the door.

Her mother smiled, "Why the long face? I made pasta for dinner."

"He texted me." She mumbled as she pushed backed her mother back into the house.

Scout looked around the neighborhood, glancing at any movement she saw before closing the door shut. The loud clicks of the lock could be heard for a few feet.

Her mother sighed, "What did you expect? He was bound to again."

She rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. This was one lecture she didn't want to hear again. The sight of her dog, Sumo, sleeping on the floor made her feel a little bit better.

"Sumo, come here buddy. Come here." She patted the floor as she squatted down.

The pup stood up quickly and ran, circling around from excitement.

"Scout, stop it. What did he say?" Her mother said, agitated.

She sighed and got up, "He wanted me to call him. You know what that means right?"

Her mother stayed silent.

"I don't want to do it. I won't. I'll just tell him to take a walk and find someone else to do it. I can't take it anymore, Mom."

"You know you can't do that. We owe him too much."

Scout scoffed, "We don't owe him anything."

"Oh really?" She pushed her wheelchair backwards. "What about the house? Or my medical bills? Or your job?"

"He didn't get me my job, Dad did."

"And who do you think got it for him?"

Scout stifled her argument in her mouth. There wasn't any point, her mother was going to be right whether she liked it or not. And she really didn't like it at all.

"I wish you would stop acting like your father was a saint. He was the person that got us into this mess without a way out. And then he had to go and get himself killed, leaving us to clean up his mess."

She boiled, "He only did it to fix the shit show you put us through. Or did you forget how you landed in that wheelchair?"

Her mother glared.

"Call him. Or I will." She spat before wheeling herself into her room.

Scout felt her head throb. This was too much stress. Having to carry her mother's wellbeing, take care of the house, and work too barely make rent was getting to her.

It was all feeling so pointless now.

With her phone in hand, she pressed the green button next to the number on her and held her breath. Maybe she could pass out and fall on her head. Maybe she could get amnesia. Or maybe he wouldn't pick up.

_"What took ya so long?"_

Shit.

"I got held up at work."

_"Don't lie to me, girly. You know I'm smarter than that."_

"What do you want, Xander?"

_"What's the rush? Let's catch up a bit. How's work?"_

"Fine."

_"Not in a talking mood, that's alright. What about your mother?"_

"What about her?"

_"I'm just trying to make conversation, Wiley."_

"Okay, then let's talk. What do you want?"

_"Watch your tongue."_

Scout huffed, "Fine, okay."

_"Now, I want you to keep an eye out on some people at your little job. My employers are really interested in a man named Rossi, ya heard of him?"_

"No, I'm not exactly the social butterfly."

_"Yeah, well you're gonna have to be this time around."_

"So what do you want me to do? Poison his coffee?" I said half jokingly.

_"No, just be friendly with him."_

I scrunched my eyebrows, "Why?"

_"Look, this is a need to know project and you-"_

"Don't need to know. Got it."

_"Smart girl. There's a file of him under the mat of your front door, that's enough information to get on his good side and chat him up. You'll need to be casual about it, discrete ya know."_

"And what if I don't want to do it? Cause I'm getting sick and tired of doing your dirty work all the time."

Xander chuckled, " _Well then, I guess I'll just have to pay your mama a visit sometime. Maybe make some new negotiations."_

"Okay, okay. I get it."

_"Good."_

"What do you want me to find out about him?"

_"Nothing yet, but you gain his truth and then we'll talk again. He's old, should be an easy target for a pretty little thing like yourself."_

"Target? We never talked about-"

_"I said we'll talk about it later. Just focus on the priority. Then we'll see what my employers want. For now, just do as I said and you won't need to worry."_

"I doubt it."

_"What? You don't trust me?"_

"No."

_"Humph, smart girl."_

The call ended. Scout sunk to the floor with her fingers in her hair. It wasn't a bad mission to do, it was in fact rather easy. But the underlying reason was what was bothering her.

Sumo jumped on her lap, licking her face and sniffing around. Scout laughed and pushed him away.

This life was a mess.

And something about the whole ordeal with Xander left a bad taste in her mouth.

* * *

His eyes felt like they were about to fall out of his head.

As Spencer packed up his belongings from his desk, he looked around to see who was still working. JJ was long gone and so was Morgan. Rossi had his nose stuck in his laptop, typing away for hours; apparently, he had an idea for another book.

But the light in Hotch's office was still on.

Spencer knocked on his door with the stack of files in his other hand. Why was Hotch still here? It wasn't very late but it was a Friday after all.

"Come in." He heard and followed orders.

"Reid," Hotch said as he looked up from his desk. "What are you still doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." He shrugged.

Hotch took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "Just- going over some paperwork. Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd call it a night."

"Good, good. You all need your rest. Frankly, I think the Bureau is working this team too hard."

"I don't mind it."

Hotch sighed, "Believe me, one day you will."

"We'll see when that day ever comes." He started to walk out.

"Reid, you don't really believe that you won't have a family, do you?" He questioned.

Spencer paused for a millisecond, hand on door ready to walk out. Did he really believe it?

He smiled back at Hotch, "I said when, not if."

And closed the door behind him.

The building wasn't deserted but it wasn't as full as it normally would be. Few people still lingered in the hallway, talking and catching up. And when Spencer got off the elevator, he felt the need to turn left.

But exit was to the right.

His curiosity for a particular person was getting to him and before he knew it, there he stood in the mailroom.

"Can I help you with something?"

The man from earlier stood there, putting on a coat and getting ready to leave. Spencer's hope faltered when he didn't see the girl.

"I'm sorry, I'm just looking for someone else."

"Ya lookin' for Scout?"

"I don't exactly know her name," Spencer stated. "I just knew she worked here."

"Ya that's little Scout, it's only me and her that sort this all out. Pain in the neck that girl, why ya askin'?"

"I spilled coffee on her the other day-"

The man interrupted,"Oh ho, and ya still alive? Brave man."

"Well, I just wanted to apologize to her."

"Yeah, no. She's gone for the night. Won't be back till tomorrow morning. Want me to relay the message?"

Spencer panicked, "No, no. I'll find her later, I guess. What's her name again?"

"Scout Wiley, devil of a girl I tell ya."

* * *


	4. FOUR

_F O U R_

* * *

**_SCOUT FELT LIKE_** throwing up her McDonald's sandwich.

The engine was left running as she sat in her car, starring at the building. Virginia was a lovely place that her father and mother decided to raise her but now, all she wanted to do was drive away. The farther away, the better.

She grabbed the file sitting between the edge of the seat and opened it. The photo of an older, tan looking man slid out.

Each paper was memorized and glued into her brain. She had conversations planned in her head:

_Are you the famous author, the David Rossi?_

_I didn't know I was in the same building as a celebrity here!_

_Your work has inspired me, you have no idea how much my life changed after reading all your books._

And on and on...

They say that flattery will get you nowhere; Scout begged to differ. Flattery goes right to the head and when it comes to men, it goes to both of their heads.

Scout shook her head in disgust. At least this mission wasn't like her usual ones and for that, she was immensely grateful. Becoming friendly and gaining the trust of someone? It was a holiday for her.

Scout feared what she would have to do with the information later.

It was only once she was in the safety of the mailroom did she allow herself to relax. The sounds of people walking through the hall was something she could always count on.

**Click. Click. Click.**

Heels of strong women on their way to work was always the best. She remembered the first time she heard them when her father would bring her to work. These women towered over her small body and they always held their heads up high. They didn't blend in with the men agents, they dominated them.

And to a small Scout, she loved it. She longed to be just like them.

"And yet," she sighed. "I'm still stuck in this room."

"You bet your bottom dollar you are, kid."

She turned around swiftly as saw Gordon walking in with his usual cup of coffee in hand. Any other day and she would've fought him about it, but she didn't want to.

"Woah," he stopped. "What's up?"

She shook her head, "Nothing, tired that's all."

"Coffee?" He suggested.

"Yeah, yeah. Coffee sounds good right now."

She got up and walked right past Gordon and to the break-room. The feel of his eyes never left her but she ignored it.

A few minutes later and with a lukewarm mug with five packets of sugar later, Scout still wasn't the same. In the back of her head, she knew doing the mission was wrong.

But she didn't have a choice.

Xander wasn't someone to take lightly and her own father knew the price for that.

' _Cancer_.' She thought to herself, ' _everyone thought it was fucking cancer.'_

And her mother. She couldn't have her mother pay for the price either. It would be too cruel and too...apathetic of her. The answer was always obvious to the Wiley family. Do what Xander says, or else.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar figure. It wasn't one she met before but she had it memorized like the back of her hand.

_5'11_

_November 13, 1947_

_Fading black hair, Italian._

And so, she kept her eyes down and distracted. A pair of large hands grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back gently.

She let out a small, well-rehearsed gasp.

"Woah, you okay there?" He said.

The sight of the BAU's very own David Rossi made her insides bubble. It was almost too easy.

"I'm so sorry, sir! I must've been distracted and I didn't see you and I'm just so sorry, I know I should've watched where I was going but I didn't see-"

"Hey, hey," he said gently. "It's alright, we all have our moments."

Her eyes turned to realization.

"You're- You're David Rossi, the writer!" She exclaimed.

The man looked away proudly and yet shy at the same time. Scout analyzed the directions where his eyes flew. He was showing pride that she had recognized him but still embarrassed that the situation had unfolded at his work. She knew he didn't want her to make a scene.

"I'm sorry for getting all excited. It's just- well my dad bought me your first book when I was a kid. I wanted to be a profiler just like you and well, it got me here after all."

David smiled, "Are you a trainee?"

She frowned.

"Uh no, I'm in the mailroom but I'm working on it." Scout chuckled nervously.

The look of remorse and pity stayed in his face for a mere second before he smiled again. It was quick but Scout was quicker. She fiddled with her fingers to make it obvious to Rossi that she was embarrassed as well.

She wanted him to feel remorse for her.

"As long as you keep working, I don't see why you wouldn't be considered to be an agent here. Maybe one day I'll be working with you in the BAU. We're always on the look out of new profilers."

She gave a closed mouth smile.

_'Liar.'_

He chuckled, "Lord knows I'm not getting any younger. Maybe you might be the one to replace me one day."

"I highly doubt that, sir. The bureau would be nothing without you."

He nodded, "That's what they all say. It was nice to meet you-"

"Scout Wiley, sir." She stuck out her hand for to him to shake.

He took it in return.

"Well Scout Wiley from the mailroom, don't give up."

"I won't." She grinned.

_'I promise, I won't.'_   
  


* * *


	5. FIVE

_F I V E_

* * *

**_SPENCER WAS ABNORMALLY_** quiet for the journey back.

The team has just finished another case and was flying back home. It was comfortably quiet, something he had always enjoyed.

Hotch sat alone writing about the mission in his files while Morgan sat at the next table over with his head buds listening to music. Rossi typed away at his laptop, probably revising his latest copy of his book while JJ napped in her chair and Blake worked on another crossword puzzle.

With the most recent case over, his mind itched at something to work on. He had already finished the 10 books he brought with him for leisure and stared out the window. His reflection was blurred but the dark circles under his eyes were evident.

They weren't far from home and he estimated that they would land in the next 30 minutes.

"I wonder..." He spoke in barely a whisper, more as if he mouthed the words with his breath. At the moment, his mind raced miles per second.

The reminder of returning home had stuck a chord.

' _The girl_.' He thought.

Spencer quickly dig out his laptop from satchel and opened it. The sound of the device turning on made him tap his fingers impatiently. He hated technology. It wasn't as quick as picking up a book and flipping to a page. It would have to turn on and load and reboot and waste perfectly good time that he could have used for research.

When the screen finally lit up, so did his face.

 **S-C-O-U-T** _space_ **W-I-L-E-Y**

The results weren't much since thankfully, it wasn't a common name. He wouldn't have to spend so much time trying to search through people he knew he wasn't looking for.

The first image that showed up was a picture of a book, _To Kill A Mockingbird._

 _'Interesting, but not necessary.'_ He thought.

Spencer quickly got up without making much nose and poured himself another cup of coffee. He could feel his eyes starting to get heavily but as much as he wanted to sleep, he realized how much there was to do.

"Spence." He heard behind him.

JJ stood with both of her arm crossed, giving the tall man he signature look. He could also see that she was tired as well.

"Sorry. I'm blocking the bathroom." Reid said before picking his cup and trying to move past her.

She sighed, "Why are you drinking more? It's late and we're almost home."

"Are we?"

"Yeah, we are. Have you been getting enough sleep? I know things have been-"

He stopped her, "I'm fine, just busy. That's all. I'm looking into a new theory that Stephen Hawking just released the other day and I'm hoping I can find a loophole in the part where he discusses the real active-"

"Spence, just...try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay." He nodded and pursed his lips.

Reid quickly sat back down and drank his coffee. He clicked on the next image in his search and saw an actual picture of a mockingbird.

_Next click._

A picture of Harper Lee.

_Next click._

A still image from the movie, _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

_Next click._

A younger version of Scout Wiley.

Perfect.

He clicked on the article that was attached to it and it sent him directly to the news page of Quantico. Now he was getting somewhere.

At the top of the page, it was listed in October 1, five years ago.

**_'In Memory of Lost Employees at the Federal Bureau of Investigations, Quantico'_ **

His eyes scanned the page quickly. There were 23 names listed of people who had worked in the same building as him that had pasted. However, these weren't agents.

In fact, these names belonged to people who had died of old age. These were veterans of the office, people who once worked and were now retired. Spencer never noticed any of them in the years he had worked with the FBI, he only knew of agents' deaths.

He scrolled down further until he reached the name, **Clark Wiley**.

Next to it was a picture of man that smiled very proudly. He wore a cap that had the FBI embroidered in the front and his graying mustache took centerfold of his face. The beer guy was evident but not pictured, Spencer could see the effects it had in the cheeks of the man.

' _In loving memory of Clark Wiley, employee of at Quantico. He worked for 12 years as a distributor of mailing and personal belongings before passing this summer due to cancer. His daughter, Scout Wiley, is to take his place in the Fall.'_

On the bottom of the paragraph was a picture of Scout.

It looked like something out of a yearbook rather than anything else. She has a forced smile on her lips and her neck was pulled out in an awkward way. The cap that her father wore in the previous picture rested on her head.

"Reid."

"Hm?" He kept looking at the page, finger pressed against his lips.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well the jet landed."

Spencer looked outside the window and in fact, saw the road beneath them. He glanced back and saw Morgan with his go-bag in hand and an eyebrow cocked up at him.

"Right, well uh. Sorry, I got distracted." He said.

Spencer quickly started to grab all of his things and placing them in his bag. He mentally cursed at himself for being so absentminded and not realizing everyone leaving as well.

Morgan raised his hands in defense, "No need to apologize, it's been a long night for everyone. Rossi and I were talking and he invited me over to his place for a late dinner, wanted to ask you if you were interested on tagging along?"

"Yeah, sure."

_Wait._

_"_ Actually, I can't. I've been busy researching something right now."

"Can't it wait?" Morgan asked.

"It can, but I really don't have the patience for it now. Some other time, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Doc. But need I remind you how amazing Rossi's food is? You're missing out."

Spencer grabbed his bag and followed Morgan out of the jet.

"Do my ears deceive me? Derek Morgan actually praising my food?" Rossi said with a chuckle behind them.

Morgan laughed, "Don't let it fill that big head of yours, you already get too many compliments as it is."

"Gah, _non abbastanza!_ Not enough compliments if you ask me. My writing and my food are always begging for more. In fact, I got noticed by a fan the other day."

"Ha! Rossi, the only people that ever notice you are old ladies that carry your book around to to the nail salon and read it before bed. It's not that big of an accomplishment." Morgan laughed loudly.

The three of them trailed behind the team as they walked into the building, it was quiet from the dead of night.

"No no no, she was a pretty little thing. Works here actually."

"So that would explain it, she's an agent. All trainees have to study an expert in their field. Wait, was it Veronica? I knew she was always trying to weasel her way in by flirting."

"No, she had an odd name. Real short and she wasn't an agent. I can't remember if I'm being honest, really."

"Scout?" Reid butt in.

Rossi's face lit up, "Yes! That's it, she worked in the mailroom."

"You know her, Reid" Morgan asked.

"Not really, I bumped into her but that's it. I spilled my coffee all over her, too."

"You see, that's not the way to flirt with a girl. We've talked about this, keep the nerd talking to minimum and charm her with a smile. Turning her into a Dunkin' Doughnut with your coffee was not on the list."

The elevator opened and the three trailed inside. When it opened again in the floor of the BAU, Garcia stood there with a smile.

"Good evening, super crime fighters. The reports from the last case are on your desks, once you sign them then you are free to go."

"Thanks, Baby Girl." Morgan said, dropping the subject and walking directly to his desk with Rossi.

Spencer stayed behind and looked at her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Garcia, I need you to do me a favor."

* * *


	6. SIX

_S I X_

* * *

**_SPENCER COULD FEEL_** his eyes burning.

He quickly tired to rub away the sleep before Garcia could notice and send him home. It was late and his body was starting to catch up to him.

The sound of Garcia's heeling clicking in the hallway caused him to straighten up. She walked in, foot in front of the other, with two large cups of coffee in hand.

"Okay," She said as she handed him a mug and sat down in her chair. "Now, what's her name?"

"Scout Wiley."

Garcia stopped.

"Scout? I know her, kind of."

Spencer stood intrigued, "How?"

"I met her in the lunchroom the other day, why are you so interested in her all of a sudden?"

"I'm not."

"I'm not the profiler here, sweetheart. But it seems to me like you are. Why would you have asked me to do a background check on her?" She asked.

Spencer shook his head, "Okay look, she just keeps popping up all of a sudden and I don't know why. I want to be sure especially since..."

He didn't want to finish his sentence.

"Spencer," Garcia cooed.

"Honey, you don't have to worry about that. Anyone who works here has a background check done, they wouldn't be allowed in the building if they hadn't.

Spencer closed his mouth, "I know. It's just- Well, I just have a feeling and I know I should trust it. She's- different, I guess."

Garcia's eyes softened.

"Whatever you want, Reid."

She sat in her chair and immediately got to work. The tapping of the keyboard against her long and colorful nails gave him comfort. At least he was trusting his gut.

The computer screen popped up with several open tabs quickly.

"There's not much to tell about her, honestly. Scout Wiley, born Jean Louise Wiley actually. She changed her legal name in her 18th birthday. Uh, she lives with her mom on the outer part of town, suburbs really. Miss Wiley started working here in the mailroom 5 Year's ago when her father died of cancer, lungs most specifically. It happened so suddenly that they didn't even know he had it when he died."

"Now that's not normal." Spencer leaned in closer to the screen to double check

"Lung cancer can be seen in the person months before it actually takes effect. People usually report chest pressures like someone's standing on them or coughing up blood. Some cases even file fainting because of shortness of breath."

Garcia brought up another tab, "Sweetie, they didn't know. He didn't show any signs until the week before he died and by then, it was already too late."

"What else?" Spencer inquired.

"Uh," Garcia stuttered. "She doesn't have much really. Scout's a movie fanatic apparently, she rents movies online all the time. Doesn't do anything in her free time except her social media shows she hikes a lot, volunteers at the local shelter, and oh..."

"What?"

"Her mom is paralyzed from the waist down."

A picture of Harper Wiley in a wheelchair smiling with Scout behind her. The woman had bright brown hair and bangs, and Scout looked like the splitting image of her mother.

"They look happy." Garcia smiled.

Spencer stepped back, feeling guilty. She was normal, there was nothing hidden. Scout Wiley was just another girl, just another person trying to put food on the table.

"Reid?"

"Hm?"

"What's the matter, Boy Wonder?"

"I shouldn't have pried. They- they haven't done anything wrong. Scout...I thought she was- My gut was wrong."

Garcia turned around, "You weren't wrong, Spencer. Your gut was telling you something but I think you just read it wrong. Maybe it was saying that you should know more about this girl, just not the way you did. I say you just want to get to know her."

Spencer shook his head, "I don't like h-"

"Hey, hey, I never said you that you did. I'm just saying, that maybe the Kid Genius is curious and normally when he's curious, he wants to learn more. So go learn more... Just do it the right way, get to know her."

"I don't feel that way for her."

"You don't have to like someone to want to know more about them."

Spencer nodded and tucked a loose hair behind his ear, "I should get going, it's late. Thanks Garcia."

"Anytime Genius."

* * *

"Who the hell is knocking at this hour?" Harper Wiley groaned as she wheeled herself out of her room.

The flicker of turning on the lights made Scout wake up.

She groaned, half asleep. "Mom, it's too early for this bullshit."

Harper grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at her daughter. Instantly, the girl jumped with a deep frown etched on her face.

"What the hell was that for?" She yelled.

"Shh! There someone at the door." Harper whispered.

Scout went on alert. She glanced at the clock, it was 4:18 in the morning. Immediately she jumped out of bed and walked to the loose floorboard underneath her carpet.

Under the wood, there were lots of trinkets that she collected over the years. Scout quickly picked up her pistol and checked if it was loaded before directing her mother to the bathroom.

"Stay here and lock the door. Don't you dare come out unless I tell you to." She growled.

"Scout." Harper warned.

"Listen to what I say if you don't want to paralyzed from the wait up."

She shut the door and immediately heard the lock turn.

Scout put the gun in her right hand before she went over to the door and looked out the peephole. There was no one there. That even put her on more of an edge.

"Hello?" She yelled between the closed door.

No response.

"Is someone there?"

Again, no response.

"Hello?"

"You really are a shitty assassin, aren't you?"

Immediately, Scout turned around and lifted her gun. At the end of the barrel stood Xander with a cocky smile in his face.

"What the fuck?!" She screamed.

But she didn't lower the gun. Instead she followed the man into the living room. He sat down on the sofa as if it was his home. It honestly was at this point from all the money he put into paying it.

"And I'm not an assassin, you creep."

"You could've fooled me."

Scout scoffed and turned around to leave.

"Would you lower that impossible thing and get your mother out from the loo? I'm sure she would _love_ to greet me."

"I'd love to greet your ass with my gun." Scout whispered.

She knocked a tune on the bathroom door before it opened and reveled a disheveled Harper Wiley in her pajamas.

"Who is it?" She whispered.

Scout rolled her eyes and tucked her pistol in her waistband, "Who the fuck do you think?"

Harper rolled toward the leaving room before she plaster on a fake smile and greeted with open arms. 

"Xander! To what do we owe the pleasure?" Harper said with giddy.

He lifted a Manila folder with his two fingers and stared directly at Scout. She immediately started to kick herself and blast a storm of curses in her head.

"I've got another mission for our little Scout. You up for it?"

She scoffed, "I don't really have a fucking choice, do I?"

"Not really, champ."  
  


* * *


	7. SEVEN

_S E V E N_

* * *

**_SCOUT WILEY STOOD_** outside in the cold, shivering into her jacket and scarf.

The wind around brought a chill up her back and down her tailbone. And honestly, she loved cold seasons because of it.

But right now in this moment, Scout did not like it one bit.

She looked over at the car that was protruding smoke from its engine and rolled her eyes. Xander was always a fanatic for big scenes when it came to detective work and this was just another one of this stupid plans.

And she honestly hated.

It wasn't like Scout enjoyed killing people, but toying with them was another level. If it were her choice then she would rather shoot the bullet and be on her way but no. That wasn't how Xander did things.

She'd rather not kill anyone at all but that wasn't realistic.

Scout sighed and walked up the stairs to the front door. It was now or never and if she didn't do it now, then she didn't want to know what would happen to her own mother. Nothing was worth the risk when it came to Xander.

And so, she knocked.

"Who is it?" Someone yelled through the door.

"I'm sorry to bother, but my car broke down and my phone's dead. I don't know what to do right now and I'm not sure where I am." Scout said in her sweetest sounding yet innocent voice.

Any girl would be stupid to do this. Asking a stranger for help? Big no no. Knocking on random people's doors for help? A recipe for disaster.

Scout knew how to handle herself with or without a gun but other girls weren't as skilled as she was. Should could only imagine the amount of girls that got themselves in danger because of simple yet stupid decisions.

The door opened to reveal a tall, muscular man with dark skin.

_Agent Derek Morgan_

_June 6, 1973_

_BAU Special Agent_   
_Former Chicago police officer_

_Specialty:_   
_Obsessional crimes_   
_Explosives_

"Hi, I'm really sorry. Do you have a phone I could borrow?" She shyly asked.

He looked outside to see if there was anyone around and then glanced back at Scout. She was shivering.

"No, yeah. C'mon in, it's freezing outside." He opened the door wider.

She smiled, "Thank you, this is all a mess."

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Scout." They shook hands.

The sound of the television on and rustling in the background cause her to be on high alert. He was supposed to be home alone.

She turned her head and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Sorry, I was in the middle of eating dinner right now with a friend. Let me get you that phone."

He turned at walked towards the kitchen and out of the room.

Scout then started to work. She would have less than 30 seconds and every moment counted.

The pile of mail next the door looked promising so she pulled out her small camera and speedily took pictures of every paper. Then she took pictures of the entrance, hallway, stairs, and kitchen.

It wasn't until she heard footsteps coming towards her did she calm down and put away the camera.

"Morgan, was that the pizza-"

Reid stared wide eyed, looking at the girl across the hallway. It felt like a different world was colliding, the girl he stalked online and his reality.

It was only a few weeks since he last saw it but still, it felt different. He assumed it was because of all the information he now knew: her history, family, life. And there she was, Scout Wiley.

Her hair tucked into a beanie, brown and messy. But her clothes were as disheveled as they were at the bureau but what stood out the most was her bright pink nose and soaked sneakers from the snow.

"Uh-hello?" Reid stuttered.

Scout felt just as surprised, there wasn't supposed to be anyone home besides Morgan.

"H-"

"I found the phone! I don't even know why I have a house phone anymore but I guess this might be the only reason for it," Morgan chimed into the room.

Scout smiled and grabbed it from him, "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. I didn't know people from the bureau lived here."

Morgan looked at Reid, his red cheeks were evident. So this was the girl.

"I didn't know the FBI let couples work together on the same team, you know because of-"

"Woah, woah, woah. No, Reid and I are just friends. We're not together." Morgan quickly debunked.

Scout knew she was wrong, she just wanted to work him up a bit.

Morgan smiled, "So you're Scout? I've heard of your name."

"Most people have. It's also a noun."

Reid let out an soft chuckle underneath his breath, playing it off as a cough. Whatever tension there was in the air slowly faded.

"Mr. Reid-"

"Doctor."

Scout roller her eyes but smiled, "Right, how could I forget? _Doctor_ Reid, you better keep a close eye on your coffee the next time you see me because I won't be as nice as I was before."

"You told me to shut up."

"I know. That was me being nice."

It was now Spencer's turn to smile. Morgan looked between the both of the them before placing his attention back on Scout.

"So you work in the mail room?"

"Yeah, not really much of a choice." She groaned.

"Why's that?"

"Well, I've gone through all the training to become an agent but I'm not exactly top candidate material. And I lean more towards the sketch artist route and prefer working with victims in trauma. There isn't exactly a need for that now at the bureau."

Morgan glances at Reid quickly, his ears were still red and the gears in his head were turning. Something about this girl made such a genius turn into a dope.

And Morgan could tell, Scout was someone he could get along with.

"Well, I think I might be able to pull some string."

Scout stood dumbfounded, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Morgan." Reid looked cautiously.

"Now, it's not a for sure thing. But I might be able to get you an interview or something with Hotch, let him see if you're worth it. And maybe we could see where you might be able to fit in. Who knows, the office could need a change of scenery."

"We could just buy a plant." Reid stated.

But Scout ignored him. What Morgan offered was the best solution to all her problems. It was the perfect gateway and he didn't even know it. Morgan opened up a can of worms and Scout was determined to never close it.

* * *


	8. EIGHT

_E I G H T_

* * *

**_SCOUT COULD FEEL_** a pair of eyes burning a hole in the back of her head.

The hairs on her neck stood to a point. Something felt wrong and this feeling only reassured it. But it was so familiar, almost too familiar.

"What do you want?" She signed and held the rake in her hands tightly.

Even simple lawn work had to be interrupted. What was the point even trying at this point?

_BARK!_

"He's getting bigger. Although, I do wish you had gotten a Rottweiler instead. Saint Bernards are just not as intimidating, really."

"Have you seen Beethoven? That dog can fuck everyone's life."

Xander chuckled, unamused.

"I hope you realize that your dry humor will only get you so far in life. Sooner or later, you are going to actually have to work to succeed."

"I cared for eight seconds, then I got distracted," Scout smirked.

The sound of Sumo's nails against the concrete got to her crouch down to pet the pup. He was big, but still a baby. And training wasn't as easy as she had hoped it would be.

"Tsk- your father should have taught you better manners."

She rolled her eyes, "I'll take note of that for next time someone I know dies. In case you missed it in school, death is untreatable."

"I got you a gift." Xander sighed.

"Oh, goodie."

He handed her a folder, the words -CONFIDENTIAL: DO NOT READ- were written in bold, red ink. She quickly looked at the folder and back at him.

"You know, gifts allow us to demonstrate exactly how little we know a person. What is it?"

"Now, that will just ruin the surprise."

Scout scoffed at him, "No, we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Flipping through the folder, she saw papers with a brief description on different people from the BAU. It included pictures as well as addresses and common places each preferred to spend time after work.

Some were familiar faces, others not so much.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"I want you to get close to them. Gain their trust, become apart of the group. Be their friend, ally. All those bobs and whistles."

Xander went to pet Sumo on the head but the dog growled. It gave Scout a sense of pride that she trained him to do that.

"Okay, but why?"

"Hey, that's the fun of a mission. It like being one of those Spy Kids, you know? The rush of adventure?"

"It's not really an adventure when you're infiltrating the FBI's top behavioral analysis unit with the most knowledgeable and perceptive people in the whole United fucking America."

He chuckled, again. "C'mon, Scout-"

"No, I don't want to do it if I don't have all the facts straight. I could put my mom in danger, myself at risk, and it wouldn't be long before they start pointing their snot covered fingers at you."

"Tsk, and that's why you're on a need to know basis. Do I really have to threaten you with the whole killing you and everyone you love thing again. It's rather bothersome after awhile."

Scout glanced back to her house, the lights were starting to turn on as the clouds passed over them in a gloom. Arguing wasn't getting her anywhere, and she knew it.

"So why the change of mission? I thought my target was Rossi."

"Keep those old files, you might need them. As for Rossi, we're still deciding but it's not important for now. Maybe in the future."

She called for Sumo to get back into the house. The last time she thought about the BAU was Friday and now it being Sunday night, she knew she would have to get their attention tomorrow. 

It would be a suicide if she didn't get it right the first time around.

"Wait," Scout turned around to Xander but he was already gone.

"Fucking Batman bullshit..." She whispered to herself.

"Hey," She yelled out, "I'm so not Commissioner Gordon in this scenario!"

And how the hell did Xander know the BAU was interested in her?

* * *

"I don't get it, what qualifies Miss Wiley to join the team?"

Hotch looked up from the file on his desk to both Morgan and Garcia. They had been waiting in his office until he arrived in the morning.

"The FBI never gave her a chance and according to her exams and scores, she more than qualified. The system failed her from the beginning." Morgan crosses his arms.

Garcia handed to him an additional folder. The sound of her heels filled in the room.

"Scout's father, Clark Wiley, died five years ago from cancer. He worked here at Quantico for 12 years but by the time doctors found it, it was too late. The FBI did nothing for medical expenses or compensation for the family and Scour was forced to take her father's spot."

"And the mother?"

"Now, that's the sad part. The family was neighbors to a group of meth dealers and one day, they got wind of information of Clark working for the FBI. They went to make sure they weren't being spied on but the only person at home was the mother, Harper Wiley. They tried to get her to talk and tortured her for information. She's been paralyzed from the waist down ever since. It took the FBI 5 days to actually apprehend the dealers and refused to help the family after."

"Look Hotch," Morgan stepped in. "Her test scores are through the roof. She was placed highest in her class and the only reason she never actually went through with it was the fact that she couldn't afford to quit the mailroom and do the unpaid internship. She's the only source of income for her mother."

"And if I do give her the job? Then what? It wouldn't be fair to anyone else and I'd have the director breathing down my neck. If she would make any mistake and it would be not only on my hands but the entire team."

"Hotch, it's not a for sure thing. Just- give her an interview. See for yourself, maybe she could be worth it?"

He closed the folder, "I think I've seen enough. Now Garcia, did you prep for the briefing?"

She looked at him, disheartened at his answer.

"Yes sir."

"Good, we'll meet in 30 in the conference room."

Garcia walked out, grabbing the folder from the mission on Hotch's desk and left to her room. But, Morgan lingered.

Something was off.

"You knew about her already."

Hotch sighed, "Rossi brought up her name the other day, I already looked into her file before."

"And?"

"I haven't gotten around to meeting her but I was planning to later this week. From what her scores say, she reminds of me of Emily. I think she would be good with working with victims."

Morgan raised his brow, "So does that mean yes?"

"Maybe."

"Good enough for me."

* * *

"Again?"

Gordon shoved a basket full of envelopes and packages in her arms, it was practically spilling over the sides.

"Yeah, you did it once now so you can do it again. Besides, you'd get to see your little boyfriend."

She scoffed, "I don't have time for a boyfriend."

"Then who was that dude that came in the other day?"

"I dunno who your talking about."

"Sure ya do," He teased. "Tall, lanky, long brown hair. He kinda sounds like the human version of Simon from Alvin and the Chipmunks."

"Not ringing any bells."

"He said he was from the BAU."

"Spencer?"

Gordon shrugged, "Didn't catch his name, said he spilled coffee on ya."

"Yep, that's Spencer."

"Huh. Scout and Spencer sitting in a tree K-I-S-"

She snarled at him, "Okay, that's enough. I'll do it. Just- give me a second to put my stuff away."

"Ha, no problem, girly."

Scout put down the basket and threw off her sweater on the chair. It was always embarrassing going up to the offices because she stuck out like a sore thumb.

The phone rang, but Gordon picked it up.

"Hello?"

Her sneakers had traces of mud on them that she forgot to clean off and looked far beyond worn in. It was reaching the level of dumpster diving shoes.

"-yeah, no. Don't worry, I'm sending up the mail-"

And her clothes were far worse. But Scout liked it. She didn't have a dress code to follow so she wore what felt comfortable. That includes ripped jeans and whatever was clean in her closet. She didn't have many options.

"-I've got her sending it up instead. But I don't understand why-"

At least she shouldn't complain, it was only one trip up to the BAU.

"-Scout will meet ya up there. But don't stop her from-"

Scout? What? Why was he talking about her? Especially on the phone?

"Gordon?" She interjected.

He held up a finger for her to wait.

"Why are you talking about me? What do I have to do? Who are you talking to?"

He gushed at her.

"Gordon-"

"Okay, thank you. She'll meet you there shortly.

"Gordon?"

"WHAT?"

"...Well now I don't want to ask."

"Just," Gordon rubbed his face and sighed. "Go take the mail to the BAU.

Scout glanced at the basket.

"Was that what the phone call was about? Jeez, these government agents are really antsy about their coupons."

Gordon rolled his eyes, "Have fun."

"I won't."

The elevator was quiet because everyone had just arrived in their office and was getting ready for the day. Scout felt uncomfortable.

And even more when she heard the ding and the elevator doors open. A tall sleek man with far too many frown lines stared directly at her.

_Aaron Hotchner: November 2, 1971_   
_Supervisory Special Agent_   
_BAU Unit Chief_   
_Former Prosecutor in Washington, D.C._   
_Communications Director_   
_Specialty: Profiling_

"Are you Scout Wiley?"

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this, but yeah."

* * *


	9. NINE

_N I N E_

* * *

**_SPENCER ALMOST CHOKED_** when he saw Scout.

It was a late night and he didn't have much sleep. He slept through his alarm and struggled to get ready in the morning. The streets where busier than usual and he slipped and dropped his coffee in the parking lot.

It was, in fact, a shitty morning for Spencer.

And it got even worse when he saw Scout talking with Hotch just outside the elevator.

"I- uh, excuse me-" He stuttered and walked away from the pair.

"We should take this in my office. If you'd follow me, Miss Wiley."

Scout followed Hotch into the BAU space and directly in his office. She stopped for a quick second, making eye contact with Spencer, opening her mouth for a second, and then walked in.

What could she have possibly tried to say to him?

"Hey kid, you awake yet?"

"Um- yeah. Just tired, that's all." Reid looked at Morgan, and then walked to his desk.

There were still files that he had yet to finish, and he was too tired to get them done. And now, he was just too distracted. He didn't know where to start.

"You know, I think you're, what do they call it, infatuated?" Morgan laughed.

"What? No. I don't even know her."

"Woah, I didn't even say with who, Reid."

Spencer scoffed, "C'mon Morgan, I know you're talking about Scout. And I mean, really? You actually got her an interview with Hotch? What are trying to do?"

He shrugged.

"Hotch was already looking into her, and she's pretty, funny, and looks hardheaded. I think she'd be good for you." Morgan started walking to the kitchen, Reid following after him.

He was determined to set the facts straight. And Morgan refused to listen, more likely enjoyed patronizing him.

Spencer kept quiet as Morgan poured himself and Reid a cup of coffee. The silence would deafening, almost ear piercing.

"Reid, what are the statistics about dating someone at work?"

"58% of employees have engaged in a romantic relationship with a colleague and 72% of those over 50 years old have been romantically involved with a coworker."

"So about half, what's wrong with that?"

"Because I'm not ready."

Silence, again. Even louder than before. And both Spencer and Morgan were screaming inside.

"Reid-"

"Look, I don't want to be apart of that statistic. And I'm happy with my life now, I don't want to mess it up. I don't even know her. She doesn't know me. We don't even know if she's single."

Morgan sighed, "You're right. Look Reid, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"I know, it's okay."

JJ looked in, "Garcia called us into the conference room, looks like we got another one."

Morgan slapped in Spencer's back, "Looks like we're back in business."

When they walked back to their desks, Hotch opened the door to revel Scout. They shook hands, and she thanked him before leaving at a quick pace.

Spencer made eye contact again. She looked nervous and flushed with her lips pressed together tightly.

He nodded and gave her a small smile. Scout returned the favor, and left.

* * *

"Now, Miss Wiley, it seems like my team has gotten quite close to you."

She chuckled and sat down in front of his desk. It wasn't until now that she realized that she was going to be interviewed.

This was the opportunity Xander was looking for. But it also was her dream from the beginning.

Everything was riding on this.

"I couldn't tell you why, I rarely leave the mailroom. And I don't think I'm that social really."

Hotch set a folder down, opening it up, "Well your file is quite impressive, I'm surprised that FBI didn't show much interest in you before. Why do you think that?"

"I'm guessing that I'm just that good at sorting mail, can't look me as an asset and can't afford to lose me there." She chuckled.

Hotch didn't crack a smile.

Scout coughed, "Sorry, trying to lighten the mood. I don't make my presence obvious and I'm not any different than any other person here, I just work here and I go home. I don't make much of a difference."

"But you want to, that's why you did all the studying and training. You wanted to make a difference."

"Of course, I did."

"Did?"

"Do. But it's not as realistic as I always hoped it would be."

"Why's that?"

Scout glanced away, "I've been stuck in that mailroom for what? 3 years now? Nothing is really calling for a change now."

"Maybe, maybe not. Time will only tell. Now, your instructor states here that you are advanced in reconstructing a crime based on the evidence and interviewing criminals and terrorists in order to obtain insights into their motives and actions."

"Yeah, I was placed in the category of Investigative Specialist. I grew so familiar with the subject that I could immediately discern the nature of the conversation and the subject's emotional state merely from observing body language."

"These kinds of subtle details are often important for the successful resolution of an investigation. Why didn't you complete the training?"

"We were broke. I'm guessing your file tells you about my dad and my mom, I didn't have anyone to cover me to finish. And I couldn't afford it, my mom can't get a job and we're still up to our knees in bills. It was the only solution and the FBI offered me my dad's old position. I could still work here it not with the title I wanted, but I can't complain."

"Would you still do it?"

Scout was taken aback, would she still do it? Of course, she would. But only if it was for the sake of fulfilling her dream, not completing a mission.

If she said yes, then she would have no choice and no way to back out of the mission.

If she said no, everything she loved would be at risk but she would never get an opportunity like this again.

"I would like to."

"Then I would like to give you the opportunity to do so. The team has a mission to go on now, let's see how you work with the others. Grab your go-bag and meet in the conference room in 30."

Hotch stood up and opened the door, signaling the end of the interview.

"Thank you sir, you won't be disappointed."

Scout's face felt warm as she left. Her eyes locked with Spencer's as she walked out with only one thought running through her head.

What the hell was a go-bag?

* * *


	10. TEN

_T E N_

* * *

**_SCOUT FELT LIKE_** her lungs were on fire.

And it didn't help that she had the whole BAU staring at her as she tried to catch her breath. The sweat from running to car, driving back home, packing, and coming back was obvious.

After all, she was in a room with professional profilers. How could they not know?

"Miss Wiley, we were just about to start. Please, take a seat." Hotch's voice boomed.

Scout found the closest chair which was between Morgan and a blonde, who she could only assume was JJ. Embarrassment crawled up her back and she sulked slowly into her seat, almost as if she was trying to phase into it.

"So-where are we off to, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, trying to regain the attention.

"Good question and that would be Evansville, Indiana. The folders in front of you have more information," Garcia locked eyes with Scout.

"And believe me, crime fighters, this one is a doozy. 12 hours ago, roommates Maddison Taylor and Auggie Linman were doing construction on they're newly bought house."

The screen behind her changed, revealing an old Victorian styled home. It was surrounded by large trees and looked as if it was ready to fall apart. And then the screen changed again.

"Everything was fine and dandy until they started to peel the old wallpaper in the house. The girls said it felt odd and smelly so they tried to call a contractor who didn't know what it was. That is until the police got called in and discovered-"

"Human flesh?" Reid interjected.

"Uh-huh, and loads of it. Around three different rooms where covered in it, the study, the kitchen, and one of the bedrooms."

JJ looked up, "Has the coroner confirmed how old the skin is?"

"Nope, it's still being tested on."

Scout flipped through the pages. It made her stomach turn upside down and inside out. This wasn't just the work of a murder, this was the result of someone sick.

The last page showed a picture of people in hazmat suits, peeling off the the wallpaper. Strands of moisture from the skin made it cling to the walls.

Morgan sighed, "How wasn't it caught sooner? This place looks like it's a hundred years old."

"That could be why, no one wants to buy a house that's too much work." Blake said.

Reid spoke again,"Not necessarily, in fact 68% of millennials would prefer to buy a fixer upper style of house. They think that it would be cheaper in the long run instead of buying a new house."

"Looks like that's what happened to these girls." Rossi stated.

That feeling of being out of place consumed her again, Scout had some many thoughts running through her head...But what if they weren't the right ones?

"H-" She started but was cut off.

"What kind of preservatives were found on the skin to keep it from drying out?" Reid interrupted.

Garcia looked at Scout and then back at Spencer, "Still being tested on at the lab."

Scout felt her blood boil but when she glared at Spencer, he was completely unaware of what he did. It looked as if he was in his own world.

"Okay, weather in Evansville is a bit wet, so be prepared. Wheels up in 30." Hotch closed his file and got up.

The rest of the team followed, leaving only Garcia and Scout left in the conference room.

"Sorry about Spencer, he can be a bit-" Garcia apologized.

Scout waved it off, "No worries, he's got his priorities right with this case. Actually, I have a quick question. Have the previous residents been listed?"

Garcia's eyes widened.

"Shoot, I knew I was missing something. Uh, yeah. Here's the list, but there's not much. It was abandoned so it was mostly filled with homeless, drug dealers, and teenagers."

She smiled, "Thanks."

And started to make her way out and to the team.

* * *

"I like the outfit. I know there isn't much creativity when it comes to the BAU so it's nice to see something different."

Scout looked up from her notebook. The team finished regrouping after discussing further details, she didn't have anything new to add except the list of the previous residents. Before everyone left to the plane, Scout made copies and give them out. Hotch nodded, almost as if he was approving the initiative she made.

But Scout knew it wasn't enough.

"Thanks, I'm not really a power suit type of person really." She smiled, shyly.

Scout could feel her personality changing around the team, she didn't like it. It was as if she was afraid to make even the slightest mistake. It was a risk to be sarcastic if she didn't have any experience to hold her up.

JJ nodded, "I was at first but then I realized it wasn't exactly made for being in the field really."

"Well, you look more professional than I do. You guys all do."

And she was right. Scout dawned her black ripped jeans, a Metallica t-shirt, black blazer with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and yellow converse. It made her feel like a fraud.

"Don't worry about it, you'll be faster than I am with these heels. Trust me." JJ smiled.

Scout nodded a thanks.

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit, it's my first time out in the field. I can do the brain stuff no problem, but it's this other stuff that puts me on edge. This isn't anything like a multiple choice test."

"You'll get used to the technical stuff, but...as for the rest, I can't really comfort you much about that." JJ's voice faltered.

Scout nodded, "I get it, I just don't want to disappoint really."

"You won't, Hotch briefed us about you earlier. You've impressed him, which is a hard thing to do. Just, keep doing that and you shouldn't have to worry."

"I guess." Scout said.

There were a few minutes of lull between the two coworkers before Hotch's stern voice encapsulated the jet.

"Morgan and Rossi, you'll go and check out the house. See if you can find something that the police may have missed. Reid and Blake, you'll go to the coroner's office to see the results on the skin. Wiley, JJ, and I will set up at the station and interview the two girls."

The rest of the trip included small talk with JJ about the BAU and Scout's experience in the mailroom. When they weren't talking, Scout preferred to look out the window and think about the case, going back and forth between her file and the notes she took down.

What kind of person would be willing to do this? And how could they have possible gotten away with it for so long?  
  


* * *


	11. ELEVEN

_E L E V E N_

* * *

**_HER MOUTH DRIED_** from the nerves felt in Scout's stomach.

"My name's SSA Hotchner and this is Agent Jareau and Agent Wiley. The rest of my team are already divided between the coroners' office and the location of the crime." Hotch spoke in a tone of voice that few could ever grow comfortable in.

But Scout wasn't focused on his tone. In fact, her mind only traced itself back to one word that he said: Agent.

She wasn't an agent.

"I wish we could've met on better circumstances but this isn't usual for our neck of the woods. Evansville doesn't exactly scream murder, really. Folks around here call me Sheriff Olson."

Scout nodded a hello, not feeling as formal or experienced as she should be in the situation for a handshake.

"Well, I've got a room set up for your team," Olson said as he walked towards the back of the station. "It's not much, but we've got boards and tables for you to work."

"It's more than enough, thank you." JJ smiled and set her bag down on a chair.

"Are the girls here?" Scout questioned. It was time that she took initiative. If she wanted to actually impress the team and complete Xander's mission then she would have to start somewhere she knew best.

The sheriff nodded, "Yea, they're still a bit shook up and refuse to go anywhere else. They lived there for a few weeks, poor girls don't have anywhere else to go."

"I'd like to go talk to them, if that's alright." Scout directed towards Hotch.

He nodded, "You're closest to their age so they'd be more willing to open up to you. Take JJ with you, try to find out if you can get anymore information as to how they obtained the house."

"Maybe they can connect a part of the timeline and determine whether or not the Unsub wanted them to live in that house." Scout agreed.

Sheriff Olson showed the female agents the way to a room that had large windows and dimmed lights. Scout could see the two girls, sitting next to each other in silence as they stared into nothing. They were traumatized, Scout knew right away.

With a swift knock, JJ opened the door and let the brunette agent in first before trailing behind to close it again.

"Hello, my name is er- Agent Wiley and this is Agent Jareau, we're with the FBI. Would it be alright if we asked you a couple of questions?"

The pair of girls nodded, one more hesitant than the other.

"Look, we already told the police everything we know. We don't have anything new to say, really." One girl said.

Scout recognized her from the picture that Garcia gave, her name was Maddison. Her hand grabbed the girl next to her, which she could only assume would be Auggie.

JJ stepped in, "Sometimes our files may not do your perspective justice, we just like to give you a chance to voice your side of the story. There's always a possibility that you might've missed a detail over all the commotion and stress."

Auggie nodded towards Maddison, telling her to push on and talk further.

"Fine, what do you want to know?"

"How did you come across the house?" Scout cleared her voice, piercing together which questions would be best to get anything different than what they already knew.

Maddison sighed, "Someone posted a flyer on the board outside a coffee shop, they're practically everywhere across town. It's almost impossible to miss."

"And you were the only ones interested?"

"Seemed like it. It's practically about to fall apart but we wanted to build it up and fix what we could."

Scout tilted her head, "But that sounds like a big commitment for two young adults, it could cost quite a bit. And you both just graduated from college, you must have some debts to repay."

"Yeah but we work full time, and we didn't take out any loans. Auggie never let me."

"Fixing it up would take some time too, atleast 2 or 3 years. It'll be quite a big investment for two roommates."

"So?"

"So, who gets the house after it's done?"

"We both do." Maddison scoffed.

Scout nodded, "But you're young, there must be the possibility of growing up and getting married. What if one of you wants to stay there?"

The girl exchange a looked.

"We don't want to get married."

"And if you fight? Friendships can break sometimes and you could loose a lot of money."

"The house is signed under both our names. And we wouldn't want anyone to move into it except the two of us."

"What about a boyfriend, that one day turns into a fiancé, then a husband? You'd want your own space then." Scout knew what was going on, but she needed the girl to say it. She couldn't just assume, it had to be concrete fact.

"We don't want that," Auggie whispered.

The shy girl had the attention of all the time room. Her hands grasping on to Maddison's, looking directly at Scout. The look she gave with her eyes, pleading to stop the questioning.

"Auggie." Maddison scolded.

"I'm guessing Evansville isn't as dandy as they try to make it out to be?" Scout softened.

The girl shook her head, "No, it's not. They don't exactly show open arms to those waving around a rainbow flag."

"And the town doesn't know. We'd like to keep it that way." Maddison growler under her breath.

JJ came forward, "It's possible that the person that did this to your house could be trying to send a message against those in the LGBTQ community. If we want to find out and protect those then we need to know anyone you've told."

The pair of girls looked at each other and nodded.

Scout sighed and got up, leaving JJ with them as they continued to talk about the details of the case. When she walked outside, she was faced with the dark eyes of Hotch.

"You heard?" She asked.

He nodded, "It's possible that our unsub is directly his hate towards those who are on the homosexual spectrum. We need to know everyone in this town that is open about their sexuality."

"No," Scout countered. "I don't think the Unsub is going after them. I think he's after those who are hiding it. This sounds like a message to the town, he's shaming them."

"The people?"

"No, the town itself." Scout looked back at the girls. Hotch stayed silent, waiting to hear what Wiley said next.

"He's saying that either they come out or he'll make them. We need to find out who exactly is apart of that wallpaper."

* * *


	12. TWELEVE

_T W E L V E_

* * *

**_SOMETHING SPENCER RARELY_** was familiar with was the pestering and gnawing feeling of being stumped.

But this case left many gaps between his thoughts. And there was no way to fill it with whatever explanation he could think of. At least, not anything that made logical sense.

And Spencer Reid only found interest in what was logical.

"So you're saying there's no way to tell how long it's been?" Blake said, looking through her files once more.

The coroner shook his head, "Skin itself dries very quickly but once it's been taken off, we have no way to really tell."

"And what about gender?"

"Nothing, and there's no way to tell. Whoever did this was careful to get rid of any possible tattoos but they weren't very skilled, I can tell you that."

"Why's that?" Reid snapped from his trance, he needed information. His brain craved any detail that it could digest and process.

"Here," The coroner pointed to the edges of the skin. "They start off slow and meticulously but by the end, the cuts become jagged and quick. Any person with experience would know that you have to be slow to get the results you want."

"So they have no formal training?"

"Not at all."

Blake inquired, "But how could they have known what they do know? It must take some knowledge to do this."

"It's easy enough to find a video online. Skinning isn't an uncommon search word if you're in Biology or trying to pass 9th grade science."

But this new information didn't do enough for Spencer. He wanted to know more.

And his skin was starting to crawl because of it.

When they got back to the station, everyone was in a buzz. Lines were ringing and every office looked as if they're heads were about to explode.

He set his bag down on the table, startling Scout who was reading a file with deep concentration. Hotch has just gotten off the phone.

"What happened?" Spencer asked.

"They found the bodies."

'What was left of them, at least.' Scout thought as she went back to the board.

A civilian had called about a terrible scent in the woods after going hiking and what was though to be a bundle of dead animals were instead the skinless bodies. Morgan was sent to investigate along with Rossi.

They were all female and the sight was one to be shocked.

And the strangest thing was, they were all yellow.

"Yellow?" Reid questioned.

Scout nodded, "It looks like paint, the kind you buy at a home improvement store. Morgan said that they found 7 bodies, they're going to check if they match but they're pretty certain."

"And Garcia is getting us a list of all the missing persons." Hotch chimed in.

"And?"

"They weren't hidden. The unsub wanted us to find them."

Spencer's face turned sour, "They know we're here."

The phone rang, cutting the deep tension in the air. Scout's stomach churned when she glanced at the pictures of the body. She may be involved in some dangerous and unspeakable things but this...this was beyond what she had even imagined.

She didn't feel as brave as she was acting.

And she only hoped that they couldn't figure it out.

"O' captain, my captain. Do I have a tale to tell." Garcia's voice echoed.

"You're on speaker with Reid, Wiley, JJ, and Blake. I'll transfer in Morgan and Rossi."

"So, you might want to write down these names because, oh boy, our fella did not play nice with anyone."

"Stella Rosen, Becca Berkeley, Janice Gelaquin, Amy Fitzgerald, Jacquline Castro, Virginia Zapatista, and Sara Province. They all range between 21 to 30."

Scout spoke, "Garcia, do we know of any of them we're apart of the LGBT+ community?"

"Negative, Amy was an out bisexual and Virginia had a girlfriend but Stella, Becca, Jacquline, and Sara all had boyfriends and Janice was married."

Scout sighed, her theory was blown and left in fragments. Now, she had nothing to base off her theory.

"We're they all reported missing?" Blake asked.

"Yep, Janice was the first one. She was reported by her husband about 2 months ago."

"So this hasn't been going on for long?"

Hotch stepped in, "We can't assume that, let's go off on what we have now and work our way down. Start with Janice and see if we can find a connection between all 7 females."

Spencer nodded and immediately started to pull out his laptop, typing away the information he had.

'But why yellow?' Scout thought to herself.

"You okay?" JJ came up behind her, a stack of papers in hand.

Scout nodded, "Yeah, just a bit flustered."

"I know, your first assignment can be overwhelming but you shouldn't let it get you down. We all have to start somewhere, right?"

"I just don't think anyone likes working with me, to be honest."

"Why's that?" JJ's eyebrow flutter together in confusion.

She shrugged, "I'm sure Blake and Rossi don't like working with a kid like me and Morgan just seems so hardcore, and Dr. Reid just pretends like I don't exist. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this team."

"Dr. Reid? Please, you guys are the same age and he always lives in his little bubble when he thinks this long. And I'm sure the rest of the team just needs time to warm up to you as I'm sure you need time to warm up to them. Don't give up on the team and I'm sure they won't give up on you."

Scout nodded, "Thanks, I needed to hear that."

"No problem, now hang up this pictures on the board. Garcia just faxed them over to us, it's the pictures of the girls."

And Scout immediately went to it.

But there was nothing she could see where the victims overlapped. They all ranged in ethnicities and features, leaving the only thing they shared being the state that they lived in. In both sense of the word: Indiana and dead.

Scout wrote down underneath the picture of each girl what factors she believed to be important. Stella was IT manager, Becca was physical education coach, Janice was a plumber, Amy as a telemarketer, Jacquline worked in the lumberyard, Virginia as a mailroom deliverer, and Sara was an engineer student.

They all had good jobs and were well paid but not outrageously that it would be about money. None had children and lived alone or with someone they had a friendship with or relationship with. They were all average, hardworking women.

And it clicked.

Scout glanced at Spencer, he was in deep thought and it was almost time to leave for the night. Everyone looked like they're brains had been fried to a crisp.

"Reid?"

Nothing.

"Reid?" She said louder.

Again, nothing.

"Hey, Spence?"

And the genius' head flick up, with no warning. His eyes looked bloodshot it his body showed no signal of slowing down.

"Can-can I borrow your laptop for a quick second?"

Spencer looked curious, "What?"

"I mean, I just need to check something. It'll be really quick, I swear."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, go ahead." Reid pushed his computer away and stood up with his empty cup of coffee.

"I'll just go and get myself another cup. You want one?"

"No, I hate coffee." Scout muttered, typing into the search engine.

"Oh."

And left without saying another word, tapping his short nails against the cold ceramic. His hair flew into his face but he quickly tucked it back, an old habit from when he had longer hair.

He silently kicked himself, knowing that he should've said more.

* * *


End file.
